The Confessional – Volume 21
It’s Sunday…a day we rest…take time to be with family…and a day we can find peace and solace in the knowledge that we are not the only mother who has a secret stash of Cadbury eggs in their sock drawer. Let’s get real…NO ONE has it all together…We all have grown so accustomed to putting up the front of the perfect mother, acting as though we’re auditioning for the role of June Cleaver…but inside, we’re just secretly praying that our child will stop singing I’m a Little Teapot so we don’t cut our own ears off. This crazy ride called motherhood has its ups and downs, and through it all, we TRY…try our best…do what we can…give what we have…but we’re human (and that is okay!) In The Confessional, we read through the confessions of a different parent each week, and see glimpses of our own life…realizing that the things we’re so embarrassed about…the things we’re ashamed to admit…the things we are certain none of our friends would ever do…are things that are a part of every mother’s life. We could all confess for days…So, settle in, grab your coffee and feel better about yourself…free yourself of your mothering guilt…You are exonerated my friend. (If you want to continue to feel great all morning, check out The Confessional Archives!) I am also looking to fill The Confessional for the summer, and am filling spots with brave mothers (and dads too!) Please contact me if you would like to confess!
Today’s mother bravely stepped up and volunteered, and I’m thrilled she did! Meet Nikki, author of http://www.prettyopinionated.com. Check it out and show her some blog love this morning. I love her honesty…so raw and authentic…Thank you Nikki for sharing yourself with our readers this morning! You’re doing great! All right ladies, you ready to breathe a little easier? Here we go…
Father forgive me…
- My son wasn’t potty trained until he was almost four because I just didn’t have the motivation to try to convince him to use the toilet. I ended up letting the preschool train him. They managed it in a single day.
- Now almost six, he still drinks out of a sippy cup, the kind that says “9 months and up” on the package. This was a compromise because he didn’t want to give up the bottle until he was 3.5 years old. Now I don’t push it because I don’t want him to spill stuff everywhere.
- I tell people that I don’t want another child because I’m scared of a repeat of all the complications I had when I was pregnant with my son, but really it’s because I honestly don’t think I could love a second baby the way I love my son. I just don’t want another one.
- When the new Lego video games come out, I let my son play video games for WAY more than the recommended half hour a day. Like 6.5 hours more, if we’re being honest, and I spend about 5 of those hours playing along.
- I allow my son watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force, which is clearly NOT made for children. His favorite is Meatwad.
- My dog used to lick the inside of my son’s mouth when he was a baby. I never stopped her from doing so. Hey, a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a human’s mouth is, right?
- When my son started kindergarten, the first few days I woke up with him, got dressed, even put on makeup to take him to the bus stop. Now, I wake him up , toss him some milk (in the aforementioned sippy cup), some dry cereal or a cereal bar, turn on the TV and go back to bed for half an hour. I take him to the bus stop in my pajamas.
- My son knows I’m afraid of clowns, and he thinks it’s hilarious. So he always tries to scare me with them, or tells me there’s a clown behind me. One day, I retorted with “well, there’s a vampire under the bed!” Yeah, that didn’t go over so well. He now needs three lights and a 90-pound dog in bed with him before he’ll go to sleep.
- Perhaps I should mention, he already sleeps in my bed because I took him in a scary Halloween store, not realizing they were so graphic and gory. He used to love monsters until that fateful day. Now he’s scared of just about everything. I feel horrible. I swear, I thought he’d like the store.
- Until he became wise to my tactics and started making me run my finger under each word, I used to summarize his bedtime stories. Seriously, how many times can I read the same Power Ranger or Spongebob book? It basically went “and then the Power Rangers worked together and kicked the bad guy’s butt, the end!”